Between Life and Death
by Ruthlyn
Summary: Death changed her life forever. One-shot.


_A/N: This is a companion piece to "Outcast". It is the more detailed account of Rusalki, a side character in that story, and how she came to be...well, what she came to be. It is a one-shot, and could mostly stand alone (I think? It's hard to know that as the author of both pieces), but it would definitely spoil "Outcast" for anyone who hasn't read it and thinks they might. Fair warning._

* * *

"Keely, come on! It's getting dark, and I'm starving. You know how miserable the pub'll be in a few hours."

The two young girls had been racing through the sands of Sograt Desert, heading toward the city of Morroc to the west. Rasha hated getting to the pub too late at night, when every low-life in town came in droves to eat, drink, and generally live up to the term "low-life."

But Keely had stopped running, and Rasha now came to stand next to her, to see what had grabbed her attention.

"Rash, look at this." The girls were standing in a large patch of desert grass and weeds, matted down in the center.

"It-it looks like some kind of nest. But what would be living here like this?"

Keely took a few steps further into the nest and felt something crack under her foot. She let out a startled yelp and jumped back.

"Keely, what happened?" Rasha called, unwilling to move closer to her older friend.

Keely didn't answer. She just stood there horrified, with her hand over her mouth.

"Keel, what's going on?" Rasha walked over and stood next to Keely, and saw for herself what had upset her friend. "Are those…?"

"Bones," Keely confirmed.

"Human?"

Keely shot her an exasperated look. "Obviously not. They look like they belong to a dog, or maybe a wolf. You've been listening to too many of my dad's stories."

"Well how was I supposed to know what kind of bones they are?" Rasha defended herself. "It's not like this is something we see every day."

"You use your head, Rash. Look, see the skull? That is clearly not a human skull."

Keely suddenly felt cold, and the smell of dead animals washed over her, along with a wave of nausea.

"Come on, Rasha. Let's get out of here."

Rasha ignored her. "What about those bones? What kind of animal are they?"

"Let's just go; I thought you were hungry, remember?"

"Keely." Rasha's voice was small and frightened now. "Are those human?"

Keely didn't want to walk over there, she didn't want to see the bones, and she certainly didn't want to know why she heard the sound of a slight breeze, when the grass around her wasn't moving at all.

She had to swallow to talk again, her throat felt paralyzed with fear. "Rasha, we need to go. Now."

She turned to leave the tangle of grass and leaves, and heard the sound of a light thump behind her. She spun around to find her friend on the ground, eyes open, but dull and lifeless. Before she even had a chance to call Rasha's name, she felt a gust of wind blow through her hair. A sharp pain radiated through her body, and she looked down to see the tip of a wide, flat, bloody blade protruding from her stomach. A single tear wetted her cheek, and the last thought Keely had was of how cold the desert had gotten.

* * *

"Sir, I am merely suggesting that it is worth looking into."

"I know what you are suggesting, Drune. And I will not entertain the thought that this beast that is tormenting the desert region of Rune-Midgard could possibly be…her."

"Sir, you saw what she did to our own men. She's uncontrollable."

"She's just scared. It was two full weeks before we saved her. Who knows what that can do to a person."

In the hidden campus of the Class of Morano, deep in the Sograt Desert, Drune was trying to talk some sense into his boss, Rais, the leader of the guild.

"With all due respect, sir, I do not see how you can conceive that these murders are being done by anyone but her. The style is very specific to that taught by this guild, and it is certainly no one here doing this."

The tall, slender guild leader sighed and finally gave up the argument.

"It does not matter if she's responsible or not," he said, moving to stand next to Drune. "She should be back here with her guild. Take some men; bring her back."

"Yes, sir," Drune replied with a bow of his head.

Once Drune left him alone, Rais went to his weapon cabinet and withdrew his favorite katar, the Bloody Roar. No matter who she was, he would still be prepared when she came. With that thought in mind, he collected his Katar of Raging Blaze as well.

* * *

_They think I'm an animal. Some kind of creature. They come into my home and disrespect me, and they're offended when I break their necks?_

Dressed in a tattered assassin uniform, the "beast" stood over the most recent trespasser. The smell had never bothered her, even before. But the recent piling up of bodies was troublesome.

The first thing she really remembered was waking up in the sand, with blood all over her hands and clothes. She barely even noticed the bladed weapons at her side. For a while, she was in fact like an animal, with no real thoughts, only acting on instinct. At first, she killed only to eat. Then, somehow, her dwelling began to draw unwelcome attention. Then she had to kill to protect her home.

After a time of being around the other humans, for as short of a time as any managed to live, she would hear them speak, and began to remember a past life. One in which she was an assassin, and a highly respected and greatly feared member of a powerful guild. She was…

She was nothing now. A creature, a _thing_ to be feared by man as death itself. She knew exactly what she was, and she knew who was responsible for it. Whether or not he would pay, she'd yet to fully decide.

She kicked the body to the edge of the tall grass and brushed her crimson hair out of her face with a blood-stained hand. The sun would be up soon, and the only way she survived the day was to remove herself from it. She lay down amongst the tangle of grass and weeds and disappeared from sight.

At the same time, deeper out in the desert, three men hurried north, following a man mounted on a large, colorful bird. The knight on the peco, Drune, was leading his men—a priest, a wizard, and a hunter—to the location east of Morroc where the creature was said to live. Their orders were to bring her back, but Drune had a feeling that wouldn't be possible. He didn't know what she knew, but somehow he doubted she'd come willingly.

After a few hours of traveling, they could just barely see the lights of Morroc in the distance. Drune held up his hand, and the others stopped. He made a few other gestures, then moved ahead alone, slowly. The priest began to cast a number of spells, meant to protect and strengthen the others with him. As soon as he was finished, Drune called out a command. The men moved forward and stood on either side of him. They were thirty yards away from the nest of grass.

Drune sat silently for a moment, listening to the sounds of the desert around him. Or more accurately, the lack of sounds. The lack of howling wolves was the most obvious, but the approaching morning should have brought a plethora of animal calls, and all were absent. The only sound he heard now was the buzzing of so many flies, a noise that clearly came from that large patch of grass.

"She's in there."

"Are you sure?" a hunter questioned. "She's an assassin; she could be anywhere."

"I'm quite sure." He looked out at the horizon, where the first rays of dawn were chasing away the night. "Very few of the reported sightings and deaths happened during the day. She's there. Go."

Despite the command, all three remained still for a minute, as if waiting for something. Then, they stepped forward, positioning themselves around the perimeter of the nest.

The wizard knew it was his move next, but he couldn't quite bring himself to cast the spell. Regardless of what Drune had said, he didn't hold out much hope for finding anything human amongst this graveyard of man and beast alike.

There were bodies, both fresh and in the early stages of decay. When his eyes rested on the small bones of a young girl, as evidenced by the tatters of clothing, he shivered. What could kill so indiscriminately? Would the force they brought be enough?

"Do it!" Drune snapped, obviously agitated at having to remind the wizard of his job.

The wizard spoke one whispered word and produced an orange ball of light that raced in a circle around his body. He gripped his staff in trepidation.

Then there, between them, appeared a woman with crimson hair. She was standing, no weapons drawn, but clearly ready to attack the intruders. When she realized she'd been uncovered, she didn't make a move; she only waited.

The same light that had removed her cloak, though, had also revealed others. A ring of assassins and rogues stood around her, in line with the other three.

She stood still, only moving her eyes to take in the numbers. These new enemies brought the total who had come to stand against her up to thirteen. Then she looked at the knight, still on his peco, who was moving closer to her. Drune stopped just outside the hedge his men had made.

"You know who I am," he said.

Of course she did. She hadn't lost her brain.

"We do not want to hurt you."

_I'd kill you before you could try, her thoughts mocked._

"We only wish to bring you back."

_Back? _She cocked her head, communicating the unvoiced question.

"We are still your guild; you belong with us."

He was silent now, giving her time to respond. She said nothing; she only stood and waited, empty hands at her sides.

In the growing light, Drune could see her better now, and he could tell something was different. The most obvious was her hair. It used to be black. Her skin was paler, her eyes were darker, and if it was possible, she even seemed taller. As she stared into his eyes, he felt her coldness and endless anger and hatred. She hadn't exactly been compassionate before, but whatever callousness she possessed then was nothing compared to what he saw in her now.

The wizard's spell ran out, and he recast it before Drune had to remind him. But she was gone. Somehow she had moved fast enough to be out of the range of the spell in only a second. In another second, the party's priest grunted as his neck was snapped. She was there, behind him, and as his body fell to the sand, she was gone again.

"Find her!" he screamed. Drune felt his stoicism begin to fade. With every second that she remained hidden, her advantage grew. Fear was not something he was used to, as a man in such a powerful position within the Class of Morano. But he felt the fingers of dread creeping into him, and he did not enjoy the feeling.

There. The wizard's spell caught her. She was visible, and four men charged at her with weapons drawn. Drune watched as she drew her own weapons and threw each man aside as they came. She spun, kicked, stabbed, and sidestepped as the rest came at her at once. The wizard began to cast a spell on her, and she cloaked herself again, appearing in front of him a heartbeat later. She buried a katar in his chest.

Drune's team was failing, and fast. But he didn't move. His job was not to die with his men, and he knew it wouldn't help anyway. She was like nothing he'd ever seen before. For as much as she scared him, she also intrigued him.

When every one of the dozen men he'd brought was lying in bloody ruins around her, she stood in the middle of them and looked at him again.

His heart began to race as she took slow steps toward him. He could already feel those blades slicing through his body. He wouldn't die though. He could outrun her if he had to, but he didn't want to leave.

"You don't have to be alone out here. Morano can offer you so much if you come back."

Still she walked towards him. When she was five yards in front of him, she stopped—and was suddenly gone.

He swore as he backed his peco up a few steps.

"Rusalki!" he yelled into the emptiness around him. "Your father wants to see you again. He wants you to come back!"

Nothing. He backed up a bit more, and was a heartbeat away from turning around and running when she suddenly appeared next to him.

Rusalki spoke the first words he or anyone had heard from her throat since she had died.

"I want to see my father."

* * *

_Three weeks earlier…_

"I am her father! Don't tell me there's nothing you can do!" Rais pounded his fist on his desk.

The man sitting in front of the desk cowered. "S-sir, I'm afraid that is all I _can_ tell you. It's simply been too long."

"I don't want to hear about any of the priest guild rules. You work for my guild. You will resurrect her for me."

"N-no, sir, I'm sorry. It is not a guild rule. It is a magical and physical rule. Once a body has been dead for even a few hours, the likelihood of bringing the soul back intact is very low. A full week is impossible."

"Then get out of here. You are no good to me."

The priest scurried away before the angry guild leader could come up with some sort of punishment for his failure.

"Drune!" Rais bellowed.

The knight stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"I don't care what that fool says. Take a yggdrasil leaf, seed, fruit, whatever you can find—"

"We have, sir. Nothing has had any effect whatsoever on the body."

Rais would simply not accept defeat. Surely it was within his power to fix this.

When Rusalki had disappeared on her mission to kill a defector from the guild, Rais was concerned. The man she was to kill had proven himself to be tough to defeat, having escaped a Morano assassin once and disappeared for two years. Still, Rais had been confident that his daughter would prevail.

When that same traitor had suddenly showed up at the guild campus with Rusalki's dead body, depositing it at the guild's doorstep, Rais had been angry. It wasn't enough that the man had killed his daughter, but to taunt him by dumping the body at his feet, already days after her death, was incomprehensible.

When Natos had then died a swift death at the hands of a Class of Morano member who had chased him out into the desert when he brought Rusalki's body back, Rais was enraged. He could have kept Natos alive for weeks to make him pay for his treachery.

Instead, he was left with wrath that had no target, and a sense of helplessness about his dead daughter, which only angered him further.

Drune could only watch as his boss became more and more obsessed with his foolish quest. Magic could only do so much. And who was he to think he had authority over death?

Rusalki had been a dangerous woman, one of the best assassins the guild had ever had. But she was dead after all, so she was obviously not quite good enough. Drune worried that the guild would suffer greatly over this if Rais did not let her go soon.

There was a knock on the door, and Drune opened it. A guard from outside stood there, and told Drune he needed to speak with him. He stepped out.

"What is it?"

"Sir, there's a…man outside, and he says he needs to speak with Rais."

"Rais is pre-occupied right now. Take care of him yourself."

"We tried, sir, but he says he can help with the guild's current…situation."

"How?"

"He won't say. He insists that we let him see Rais."

Drune sighed. Normally, it was his job to make sure people didn't waste his boss's time, but if Rais was so anxious to get his daughter back, he could talk to this man himself.

"Send him in."

Rais stood to meet the first person who finally claimed to have a solution for him. The man who came into his room seemed to bring with him all of the shadows of the night. He was dressed in priest clothes, though his uniform was colored black and gray. His long, white hair obscured most of his face, and what Rais could see was dark. He carried a small book close to his chest.

Rais wanted to greet him, to ask what kind of help he could offer, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't even move. He stood behind his desk and stared at the man's face.

Then the man turned his head slightly, and peered at Rais from a haunting eye that was just visible through that silky hair. Their gazes connected for only a second, and it sent a shock of terror through Rais's body. He could sense the man's cold, soulless being, as even this heartless assassin was unnerved by it. He immediately looked away.

Finally the man spoke, in a smooth, lilting voice that fit neither his appearance, nor the presence he carried with him.

"Sir, I implore you, end these attempts to revive your daughter."

_What? Who do you think you are? I thought you came here to help!_

Rais could have sworn he was talking, but the words did not leave his lips. He didn't know if it was the fear that was still sending shocks of pain down his spine, or if the priest had some sort of control over him.

"I did come to help, sir. Do not misunderstand me. If you continue with your efforts and succeed, with even one spark, you will have created something in the woman's body you will not recognize."

_What does that mean?_

"It means that her body has been empty too long. You do not need to understand, sir, you only need to hear. Your priest was correct. Magic does not bend to your will."

_If you know so much, you know that I don't care about some vague threat of a risk. I will find a way to resurrect my daughter._

The priest said nothing, but he walked forward and around the desk until he was standing directly in front of Rais.

With every bone in his body, Rais wanted to reach for his katar and stab this bastard in the heart, but he _couldn't freaking move_.

I do know, sir," the priest said smoothly, "which is why I will give you what you need to bring her back." He opened his book and pulled out a small slip of parchment paper, which he laid on the desk.

"It is ancient, dark magic, long ago buried by your ancestors. It is the only…safe way to bring a soul back to a body it has forgotten. One warning, sir: do not do this deed yourself.

The dark priest left, and Rais could finally move again. He fell into his chair heavily, trying to stop shaking. He stared at the paper and, for a moment, considered abandoning the entire quest. He could not let Natos's last act of treason against the guild prevail, and that was enough to allow him to ignore the concerns his brain was supplying.

Drune walked into the room to find his boss in a state he'd never before witnessed. He was sweaty and visibly frightened.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

The assassin didn't respond. He kept staring at that paper on the desk with the unfamiliar script.

"Rais. What happened?"

Still without taking his eyes off the paper, he said, "Drune, bring me two men—two whom you trust the most."

"Sir?"

"Do it!" Rais snapped, finally looking up.

"Yes, sir."

The men were chosen and given their instructions. That evening, while most of the region slept, they headed for Morroc. Both were proud to be assigned to such a task, and eager to bring Rusalki back to her father. On the outskirts of town, where the cemetery lay, they found the recent grave where she had been buried, and unearthed the body.

One man kept watch while the other read from the paper, guttural, foreign sounds that made no sense to either of them. Despite the cloudless sky and full moon, the night grew darker as they waited for the chant to take affect, and the man who was playing guard began to grow nervous.

Before he could voice his concern, the woman on the ground began to cough and moan. Both men knelt down next to her in triumph, forgetting about the darkened sky. They could not know about the spell they had cast, and how it had returned the assassin to the world as undead.

When Rusalki finally opened her eyes, they were empty and cold. She could only make the men who were staring at her out as figures, and she backed away from them slowly. They moved toward her, wanting only to help her up, to welcome her back to the world. No matter their intentions though, there was nothing in her that recognized them as friends, as men, as anything other than a threat to her life.

The closer they crept, the more frightened she became until suddenly she frantically thrashed at them, bashing in the nose of one of them in the process. In the ensuing chaos, she clawed, kicked, and even bit her way out of their reach.

As the two strange men moved toward her again, she reacted on nothing but instinct as she drew two weapons and decapitated one man, and sliced the other in half.

* * *

Her voice was harsh, rough, cold. Evil. It sent a chill through Drune's body. He nodded slowly at her.

"All right. We'll go see your father."

They went slowly through the desert back to the Morano campus. Drune had dismounted and walked alongside her, trying not to let his apprehension show. He knew very well that she could reach out and kill him in a second if she so desired. It was possible that she did not know the exact location of the hidden campus in the desert—few did. If that was the only reason he was still alive, he was grateful for it.

The journey was made in silence, and it took longer than he expected. When they finally stepped within the walls of the campus, it was afternoon. Many guild members saw them coming and whispered amongst themselves. Rais's daughter had caused a lot of strife in the guild, and most were glad to see the issue resolved.

The news reached the guild leader before Drune and Rusalki did, and he smoothly checked to be sure he'd brought his katars as he came out of his building to meet them.

"Rusalki! I am so pleased you have returned to us."

Rusalki did not attempt to mirror his greeting; she simply didn't care anymore. Despite its outward appearance, their relationship had never been more than a symbiotic co-existence. He was a means to getting what she wanted, the leadership of this guild. In turn, he could count on her to do his darkest, most secret tasks.

Then she died, and no one, not even Drune, could match the calculated cold-heartedness with which she'd always performed. Yes, he needed her back with him, but the reasons were not familial in the slightest.

However, he was not stupid enough to assume she wouldn't attempt to do to him what she'd done to his men three weeks ago. His sharp eyes concentrated on her body language as she moved closer to him. His agile hands were only a twitch away from his Bloody Roar.

Taking in her altered appearance, somehow Rais knew he'd brought the wrong weapon. Her eyes that never blinked gave her away. There was nothing human in her anymore.

He saw her hands move just a moment too late. Before anyone knew what had happened, the man was pinned against a building, dangerously close to the end of his daughter's katar. Drune reacted quickly, coming to his boss's aid, but Rusalki reached out with her free arm and held her other katar at the knight's throat.

"You. Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" she hissed, her face only an inch in front of Rais's.

"I brought you back from the dead," he replied as calmly as he could. She was strong, much stronger than he'd expected.

"You made me into this _thing_, this filthy abomination. I'm not even human anymore."

"I did what was necessary. Morano needs you."

Rusalki made a sound that Rais could only compare to laughter, though it sounded more like rocks scraping against each other.

"You're right—I am exactly what this guild was missing, and you can be sure I will make it better."

He knew then that she would kill him. Oddly enough, he was pleased with the way the situation had turned out. This Rusalki would lead the Class of Morano to heights no human leader possibly could. He envied her.

Then Rusalki leaned unceremoniously on her katar, pushing it through his chest. As Rais gasped for his final breaths, eyes wide and pained, his daughter turned around and faced the handful of people who were watching with shock on their faces. No one dared come to his aid.

She looked at Drune who still had a katar pointed at his neck. He said nothing, but he didn't look away either.

"Your leader is dead," she said coldly. "Gather your best men."

He turned to do as she commanded. He only walked a few steps before Rusalki pulled a knife out of her belt and threw it. It was embedded deep in the base of his skull; he immediately dropped to the ground. She walked over and pulled her knife out of his neck.

As she casually wiped Drune's blood on her leg, she quietly informed all those watching, "I'm taking over."


End file.
